


No Mercy

by Xhuuya



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, F/F, Gunplay, Hair Pulling, Humiliation, Praise Kink, Smut, Talon!Mercy, Temperature Play, just...so much filth lol, mercymaker, so many kinks, so much filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 21:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10421913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xhuuya/pseuds/Xhuuya
Summary: Talon!Mercy shows Widowmaker a good time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a literal list of kinks. I challenged myself to incorporate a bunch and this is the result. Hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Thanks to Tah for editing and being a kink master enby with me, and also Rey for driving me to finish it if simply to see your reactions XD

“Do you think I will have _mercy_ , Widowmaker?” She wiped the blood from her lip with the back of her hand and stalked forward, a cruel smile curling the edges of her lips. The overhead light flickered, and at times all I could see were the violet lights of her modifications. It had the effect of a strobe light and each time I blinked she was closer. I realized too late that I was backing up to compensate, and my back touched the metal wall just as her fist slammed into my face.

 

Blood gushed from my cheek and lip, but I kept my eye contact. A growl rumbled in my throat, but I knew she was stronger, and I was helpless to do much more than submit. The thought of doing so made me angry, but my body betrayed me in favor of excitement at the thought. My erratic heart rate was already skipping and stuttering.

 

“That’s a better look for you,” she traced the tip of her nail over my cheek as precise as she might a scalpel, and blood rushed to follow her movements. It trickled down my neck and over my chest, and I had to stop from turning to spit the amount pooling on my tongue from my busted lip.

 

She licked her lips and pressed the pad of her thumb against my lower lip, drawing lazy circles in crimson. Her gaze softened for a brief moment—almost imperceptible—as she registered my lack of fight, but before I could acknowledge it she had her lips pressed against mine.

 

I didn’t resist as she pushed her tongue into my mouth, eager to taste the metallic bite of her violence against me. Her satisfied groan threatened to buckle my knees, and I reached to grab a hold of her, feeling like I was falling even pressed against the wall as I was. The rifle I’d entirely forgotten I was still holding clattered to the ground.

 

“Look at you,” she drew back and admired me while she savored the taste. Though I didn’t know for sure, I was willing to bet she could perceive my accelerated heart rate and the flush in my cheeks. Her gaze was predatory—hungry and violent. Her metal hand latched around my throat as she lowered her head to breathe against the shell of my ear, “You’re a mess.”

 

Her grip restricted my ability to respond, and I made the mistake of trying to swallow before croaking out a cheeky, “Thank you.”

 

The metal shifted and slid through the blood coating my neck, but her grip didn’t waver. The acute sting of her other hand across my cheek made me yelp in surprise, and her fingers tighten as she sneers at me. “Too slow, pet.”

 

“I’m sorry,” I managed to say quicker, trying to keep my voice steady as heat coiled low in my abdomen. The mechanical hum of her hand and arm vibrated through her contact on my throat, and the heat of her strike coupled with the warmth of her in general contrasted with my cold skin.

 

Her eyes narrowed and she backhanded me, the swift reversal of the prior punishment echoing against my other cheek. “I’m sorry, _what_?”

 

Tears prickled at the corner of my eyes, the air stinging against open wounds and burning cheeks, and my vision swam from lack of oxygen. “ _Veuillez m’excuser,_ _maîtresse._ ” I choked.

 

Her grip loosened enough for me to suck in a deep and shuddering breath, and it was only due to the sudden presence of her thigh pressed between my legs that I didn’t collapse. The hand not on my throat ripped through my uniform. If it hadn’t been clear before that her strength was astonishing, watching thick and protective fabric fall away as though it were tissue was enough of a reminder.

 

“Look at you,” she repeated. Her greedy eyes drank in my nude form with another pass of her tongue over her lips. Her hand moved to pinch the embarrassingly stiff nipple between her fingers. My gasp was muted when the force on my throat returned.

 

I tried to reason that it was because the lab was cold, but she knew as well as I did that I was enjoying it. The warmth of her breath riddled my skin with goosebumps as she ducked her head to bite hard into the space between my neck and shoulder. I whimpered as she pulled my aching nipple between her fingers, trying to grind against her thigh still pressed between my legs.

 

As distracted as she seemed with me, she released her hold each time I felt my vision start to blur. It felt like she was in my head as well as all over me. I couldn’t escape the feeling—nor did I want to. Rather, I wanted more and more of it as each second passed.

 

That became evident when she pulled away after a particularly heated kiss, tugging my bottom lip between her teeth as she leaned back, and I found myself leaning forward to chase the contact. She laughed and shoved me back, _tutting_ me in that condescending voice that I somehow found so very seductive. Another wave of heat boiled through me and I bit my lip. I whined, “ _S'il vous plaît, maîtresse._ ”

 

Her hand released my throat and she stepped back, breaking all contact and letting me suffer through a brief moment of fear that it would never return. I could feel the slick warmth coating my thighs, but I didn’t dare move. The sting on my cheeks had faded, but the collar of bite marks was warm and throbbing beneath my skin. I focused on that feeling instead while she stared at me in silence. I wanted to close my eyes—to escape the way she was looking at me, the way it made my heart race—but I remained enraptured.

 

“Kneel.”

 

The command finally came and I dropped to my knees without hesitation, gazing up at her, waiting for another. The satisfied smirk was well worth it.

 

“You’re such a good girl.” She tucked a strand of my disheveled hair behind my ear, but then frowned. “Take your hair down, kitten.”

 

I rushed to comply, hands shaking as I fumbled with the tie until indigo waves tumbled over my shoulders. I sat back on my calves and placed my hands in my lap, careful not to move too close to my aching cunt though my body screamed for the contact. The blood drying on my skin was a reminder that things could easily go quite differently if I fucked up.

 

“Stay still.” She paced around me. I fought the urge to swivel my head and watch her movements.

 

The flickering light clicked off, the darkness drowning my senses and forcing panic into my throat. I noticed the faint glow of red emergency lights as my eyes adjusted, but my nerves were still on fire. I yelped when the cold metal of a gun barrel touched the back of my neck. It was a helpless noise and I immediately wished I could reverse time to stop it from happening.

 

“Are you afraid of me?” Her voice came from behind me—icy, impassive, and completely impossible to read.

 

“Yes.” No point in lying about it when she would be able to tell. The staccato rhythm of my heart against my ribs felt so foreign. My mouth went dry as she traced the barrel up and down my back, lingering in the soft space at the top of my spine. She didn’t need to tell me that my own rifle was loaded with the safety off.

 

She scoped it, the extension of the barrel pressing my head forward even when I tried to keep still. The metal pressed hard enough that I could already feel the indentations in my skin, but I dared not lean any further than I needed. I wondered if she was looking through my scope, and thought about how many times in our past that I’d been on the other end of a similar—though also very different—situation.

 

The blood roared in my ears, adrenaline mixing with desire. Another few moments of silence and she lowered the weapon. I bit back a whine of both relief and disappointment. My fingers twitched in my lap. I remained still.

 

“Eager, kitten?”

 

Her breath tickled my ear as she traced the tip of her tongue over it. My senses were overwhelmed by the sudden contact in the dark, and her voice made me shiver. She pressed herself flush to my back and wrapped her hands around me, taking her time to brush her fingers over my ribs and stomach before returning her attention to my nipples. She pinched and pulled until I gasped, and I felt her amused chuckling against the nape of my neck.

 

She trailed her fingers up my chest, tangling one hand in my hair while the other hovered back on my throat. She _yanked,_ forcing me to look up at her. Her violet eyes were bright even in the darkness, staring down at me from her crouched position. “I asked you a question.”

 

“ _Oui,_ _maîtresse._ ” My voice was weak—whisper-quiet and thick with desire.

 

She smiled down at me, expression softening. She threaded her fingers through my hair. I fought the desire to close my eyes and relax into the touch.

 

“I’m so proud of you.”

 

She leaned down to kiss me, the warmth of her hands ghosting over my cheeks. I closed my eyes to savor the taste of her—even while the faint taste of my blood remained. I didn’t need to see to know that she was healing my wounds. Part of me felt like I should be worried after her initial treatment, but I ignored it in favor of the rush her sudden praise gave me.

 

“You’ve done so well so far, kitten.”

 

_So far?_

 

I made a noise in the back of my throat and opened my eyes. Her smirk was different than before—predatory, but impish—showing her teeth and reaching those devilish eyes. The sensation of her bites from before made sense now that I could see the sharp slant of fangs.

 

She forced my head forward again. Her fingers splayed between my shoulders as she stood and _pushed._ The heel of her boot pressed against my shoulder on my way down, forcing my chest against the cold floor.

 

“Ass in the air, kitten.”

 

Her voice was like honey—sweet and viscous as it drowned my senses—soothing me through the sharp pain of the impact. I would definitely bruise, but I didn’t care. My breaths were ragged, pluming against the polished floor beneath where I tried to squirm and free my arms from beneath me. Her heel digging into my flesh didn’t help as I struggled to pull my knees back under me.

 

I received a growl of impatience for being too slow in my efforts. Her weight shifted and she moved back in front of me. She disapproved and it was obvious in her features. It begged to be corrected and I scrambled to my knees in an attempt to show my piety.

 

She paced, considering my bowed form with a pleased hum. She pulled a chair from nearby table and sat with her legs crossed. “Come here, slut.”

 

I bit back a whine before crawling over, stopping to kneel in front of her again. She scoffed and looked to the ground. When I bowed, she rested her feet on my back without so much as a noise of satisfaction. She ignored me for a long while—until my knees and shins ached—in favor of inspecting the retractable cybernetic nails on her metal hand.

 

 _Finally_ she moved her legs and looked at me, hooking a finger under my chin to guide my eyes up to hers. She waited until I could maintain steady eye contact with her, even though I trembled at the effort of remaining on my knees at her feet. My breaths stuttered, hitching as she leaned forward to caress my bare shoulders. I wanted her to kiss me, bite me, bruise me, mark me...I wanted her to claim me as her personal play thing.

 

Pride was no longer a concern, consumed in the flames of my desire. The fear remained, but as an almost pleasant afterthought more than anything else. This woman was dangerous—powerful and unafraid—and extremely attractive for it. I fantasized the things I wanted from her while I stared at her, so lost in the thoughts that it didn’t register that I’d been whispering _please_ repeatedly.

 

“Please what?”

 

Her face was close, words warm against my lips. My mind blank to anything but the repetition of _please, please, please_ , struggling to form coherent thoughts beyond how much I _wanted_ her. I licked my dry lips. “Please allow me to serve you. Please allow me to pleasure you. Please—”

 

She interrupted me with a rough kiss, scratching angry welts over my chest as she pushed her tongue into my mouth. It stung, but my shuddering breath didn’t deter her. Quite contrary, she seemed plenty happy to get off on her sadism, evidenced further when she drew blood biting my lower lip and sucked greedily at the taste. I moaned into her mouth.

 

She was in my head again, knowing what I was thinking before I could even form words through my haze for it. _As numb as I could be to feeling much at all, I knew pain quite well._

 

She leaned back and smeared the hint of blood on her lips with her finger like a macabre lipstick. Her eyes took on a hazy quality as she stood. She didn’t bother giving me the command to stay still—I knew better than to disappoint her again.

 

“ _S'il vous plaît, maîtresse.”_ I wasn’t above groveling for her at this point, the _ache_ to satisfy was unbearable. _“Je te veux. J’ai besoin de vous.”_

 

She was patient—removing each article of her clothing with slow purpose—watching how my blown-out pupils tracked her every step starting the moment she draped her lab coat over the back of her chair and up until the only thing that remained were her boots.

 

The air felt thin as I tried to force myself to breathe—dizzy with the sight and smell of her when she came back to stand in front of me—further overwhelmed when her leather boot came to rest on my shoulder. Her heel dug into my chest and I had to bow my head to drag my tongue along the material.

 

She dragged the boot over my chest and down my abdomen, grinding the toe of it between my legs and grinning at the pathetic cry it ripped from me. She walked back to rest her thighs against a table and beckoned me with a curve of her finger.

  
As I crawled to her, she reached for something on the table and a brief tingle of fear flashed through me again when I realized I couldn’t see well enough in the dark to tell what it was. The scratch of the match and sudden light of the flame illuminating the sharp lines of her face made my breath catch in my throat. She took a long drag of the cigarette hanging loose in her lips and blew the smoke in my face, and I swam in the smell of it and sulfur as she extinguished the match between her fingers.

 

“ _Merci,_ _maîtresse.”_ I bowed low and placed a few kisses along the leather boots as the smoke curled around me.

 

“Up.”

 

She threw her leg over my shoulder and nudged the small of my back with her heel. When I moved as commanded and looked up, I was sure that I would faint with the way my heartbeat slammed in my chest and echoed between my legs.

 

She presented herself, spreading the lips of her cunt with her fingers as she took another drag of her cigarette. Trimmed violet curls glistened in the faint red light of the room. I swallowed hard—hesitating only long enough to understand the silent command—before pressing my tongue against those folds.

 

Her free hand shifted to my hair and scratched along my scalp as her sigh curled smoke from her nose. “You’ve been such a good girl, kitten.”

 

I didn’t dare take my tongue away to respond, hoping that she would forgive me for favoring her physical pleasure. I wanted nothing more than to feel the leg resting on my shoulder quake with aftershocks, but then that was me getting ahead of myself.

 

I flattened my tongue and drew lines up and down her slit, slow at first, relishing her taste. Each time I glanced up her eyes were on me, watching me with the most salacious smirk. It drove me wild, desperate to tear through that veneer.

 

I moved my hands under the thigh on my shoulder, kneading my fingers into the taut muscle as I curled my tongue against her clit. My lips lingered to encircle it, rolling and sucking it between them. I took pride in it when she failed to realize how low the cherry on her smoke was until it burned her fingers. Mumbling a curse under her breath as she smashed the embers into the table was the only tell that she was any bit frustrated.

 

“Enough.”

 

Her hands smoothed over my hair for a few strokes before she dug her nails into my shoulders and dragged me to my feet. The searing pain translated as pure pleasure in my high strung state and she swallowed my whimper with a kiss.

 

My goal had been to get her to shake, but I was the one that could barely hold myself up on weak knees. Blood rushed to try and compensate for the restriction of my prior posture, but it shot splinters of pain through my calves and I buckled despite my effort.

 

She caught me, her hands pressed to my back as she pulled me into her, letting me rest my weight against her. “I’m so proud of you," she whispered into my ear as she ghosted her fingers over the marks in my shoulders, healing them in the same way she had my cheeks. That same warmth traveled the length of me and I argued internally about her reasoning for helping me, whether it was fueled by lust or a genuine concern.

 

“You’ve done so well.” Her voice stayed gentle and reassuring. She kissed the tears in the corners of my eyes, ones I didn’t realize were there until the surprisingly soft gesture. I wasn’t sure that I could pinpoint the reason for them if she’d asked, but she didn’t seem to mind. After a few moments to breathe and regain the feeling in my legs, I asked her if she would continue.

 

That salacious grin was back instantly and she pulled me forward to drag her tongue along the length of my neck. She bit my earlobe and purred, the rumble echoing over my skin. “Gladly.”

 

She moved quick and it surprised me—pressed to the metal table with my wrists yanked behind my back and my hip bones grinding against the edge—faster than I could register the switch in position. She held both my wrists with one hand and dragged the clawed fingers of the other down my back and over my ass. I felt more than saw her smirk as my breath hissed between my teeth.

 

“Did you know...” She palmed over the angry marks and slapped my cheek hard enough that I yelped. I felt the sting of an instant silhouette of her hand even through what remained of my uniform. “...that I have access to all kinds of technology?” She smacked the other cheek and squeezed, huffing an amused sound at how I had tensed beneath her.  

 

She leaned her weight against me, free hand trailing up my spine and wrapping around my throat again. I choked on my surprise as frigid metal burned against my skin. My initial fear sparked fierce and blinding as I tried to free my hands, but she kept a firm grip as the frost skittered from the ends of her fingers.

 

“I thought you had better manners than that.”

 

My eyes went wide in realization as my body hummed with adrenaline. My embarrassing buzz of pleasure echoed in my whimper, “ _Désolé,_ _maîtresse. Merci beaucoup.”_

 

She hummed and the metal switched to a pleasant warmth. She drew patterns against my skin in silence, moving over my neck and trailing back down my back. The tension from the fear melted with the ice, replaced by the soothing heat. It snapped back in place when she slapped my ass again. I didn’t hesitate to thank her again.

 

“Good girl.” Her fingers trailed lower and my muscles tensed beneath each gentle stroke. It was easy to ignore the fear beneath a haze of perverse excitement. If being honest, it might have only added to the excitement. She kept me on such an edge, at her mercy.

 

“As I was saying…” I could hear the hum of the machinery in her arm pick up, the air around me swirling with a thick heat in response. “...I have a good deal of technology, and I’m eager to share with you. However, first things first, don’t move a muscle. Can you do that for me, kitten?”

 

She enjoyed reminding me that she was a doctor first, as twisted as she may have become exposed to Talon’s influence. I could guess her intentions. Her claws had become her scalpel, and it was a game for her to see how steady she could cut.

 

She released my wrists, but I kept them resting against my back. I tried to swallow my nerves as the air around me shimmered and beads of sweat dripped over my cool skin. I couldn’t see it, but I felt the metal heated to a blistering degree hovering above the lower half of my uniform. The shredded edges of the fabric curled in protest to the temperature.

 

She moved her hand beneath the waistband, lifting it away from my drenched form, and I nearly jumped at the contact of her skin to mine. It was oddly cold in comparison the furnace I felt still hovering over me. If it hadn’t been for the fact that I was paralyzed by my desire to impress her...

 

The composite armor on my torso had been no deterrent for her physical strength, and the lower half posed even less of a problem to white-hot claws slicing through it. She moved slow, mumbling to herself as she tore through reinforced material as easily as one might cut normal fabric. Flames licked across my skin—quick bursts of heat that almost tickled before the melting extinguished them—and she was considerate to not lower the scorched edges until they had cooled. This deliberate action was repeated on each side until the remains of my uniform pooled around my feet in two neat halves.

 

She kicked the inside of my ankle to the side, spreading my legs wide. “That’s better.”

 

There was something thrilling about being so exposed. Being nude was nothing new to me— nothing I ever particularly thought too much about—but when I looked over my shoulder to see the way her eyes ravished my form, I felt the gaze like electricity over my skin. Her assessment made me squirm, desperate for her hands to reach the places she looked. I groaned and put my forehead to the cold metal of the table, trying to keep the twitching from making my legs shake.

 

She laughed—a mischievous and lustful sound—and moved her fingers over my legs, high enough to feel how slick my inner thighs had become. The pressure and heat building in my abdomen was overwhelming, and she had me reduced to my pleas again within seconds.

 

My voice cracked into a broken sob when she finally pushed her fingers through my folds, stroking up and down with a relaxed pace and intentionally avoiding my clit. I squirmed to try and make the contact. The slap against my ass burned into skin still sensitive from former strikes, and I cried out in surprise. My chest heaved as I attempted to breathe through the pain and pleasure, but I remembered my lesson. “ _Désolé,_ _maîtresse. Merci beaucoup.”_

 

“Good girl.” She knelt down, biting and sucking hickies into sensitive inner thighs. She spread my lips with her fingers, and I vibrated with excitement at the idea of her seeing how wet she made me. I would be surprised if marking me hadn’t made it so that I was dripping. Thoughts of her pretty face covered in my excitement made me groan. I jolted when her breath whispered cool against my wetness. “There’s no need to rush.”

 

Any response I might have had was drowned when her lips found my clit, tongue flicking against me as she sucked. My nails found no purchase in the metal table, but I clawed at it as my vision flashed white. The tension both built to a breaking point and melted from me as her mouth worked against me.

 

My whimpers of pleasure and repeated requests for her echoed through the room. “Please. Please. Fuck me, Mistress, please.”

 

I could swear I felt her smile against me in response to my begging. I nearly collapsed when her nails raked over the back of my thighs, palms smoothing over the lines as she reversed the motion. The fingers returned to spreading me wide as her tongue flattened over me. My back arched as I moaned, and the metallic taste of blood rushed over my tongue as I bit my lip in attempt to suppress the animalistic growl. I could no longer comprehend any rational thoughts, and I wasn’t entirely certain what I was saying to her anymore—though she seemed to be a fan based on the vibrations of her laughter and hums of pleasure against me.

 

My body tensed, desperate for the release she continued to edge me towards, though she seemed keen on denying it. Each time I felt the pressure peak, she could tell and would ease away. A mixture of sweat, tears, and saliva mixed on the table as my breath fogged against the metal. My whole body shook with a force I didn’t know myself capable of.

 

More than aware that I needed no preparation, she buried her fingers inside me and fucked me hard and fast. I screamed—voice hoarse and weak from my pleading. My knees buckled in the tremors of the most intense orgasm I’d ever experienced. The scream fractured into quieter moans and whimpers as I shuddered through labored breaths. I barely managed the whispered thank you.

 

She stood and wiped her chin with her fingers, dragging her tongue along them to savor my taste. She pressed her hips flush to me, ghosting her nails over my hip bones before gripping them. Her laughter was soft against my ear. “Delicious, kitten.”

 

If I thought she was going to stop for just one, I was very wrong.

 

No.

 

She truly would have _no mercy._

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I never expected it to get this long, but here we are. Hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to leave comments/kudos/thoughts/etc.


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